


Save Me Now

by TheHeathenSlave



Category: Billy Idol (Musician), David Bowie (Musician)
Genre: Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Assault, BDSM, Domestic Violence, F/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-08
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-01-31 00:33:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12664671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHeathenSlave/pseuds/TheHeathenSlave
Summary: Leila visits a bondage club out of desperation and loneliness only to stumble upon a scene where a safeword is being ignored. Since that violates the rules of the club, she immediately steps in to break up what's going on. What happens next is shocking even to her.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a very fictional depiction of Billy Idol in an abusive relationship with some woman. It's fiction. Also, it's not current day because David Bowie is mentioned as being alive, I suppose that people should be able to figure that out based on the way the story goes but I dunno thought I'd warn. If I'm forced to set a year I'd say like 2010 or something like that. Everyone cool? Good, so it's fiction, the girlfriend isn't real, and Bowie is still alive. Repeat to yourself it's just a fic and I really should relax.

It had been a very long time since she’d visited a BDSM club. Years, actually. She had a membership to one of the clubs in Manhattan and for some reason kept renewing it despite not really going there. Hadn’t seen a reason to go since Mark. Rika mostly took care of her in way of those needs but she was finding now that Rika was spending extended periods in Japan, for work, she really needed an outlet she wasn’t getting. Finally, one weekend when she was lonely, bored, and horny (and Rika was not available) she headed out to the club to see if maybe she could find someone to fill the void. 

When she got there she chose the wristband that said she was interested and available but also indicated that she wasn’t immediately down to fuck. She headed to the bar area. They didn’t serve anything alcoholic but every other drink was complimentary since she paid for membership so she got herself a sparkling lemonade and started to walk through the club. The outside signs had indicated that there had been some remodeling and some more rooms added and since it had been a while she wanted to see what was new and what had changed. 

As she passed one of the rooms that were specifically meant for exhibitionists, she looked in. It was a room near the end of the hall and pushed back that no one was really paying attention to. It was also early in the night so the club didn’t have a lot of people, which may have explained the lack of an audience. She took a sip of her drink and looked in through the glass. It wasn’t soundproof, that would defeat the purpose of people wanting to watch but it was set up in a way to at least give the participants in the room a sense of isolation instead of performing in front of a large crowd. Usually, the people who used these rooms were beginners or a bit too shy for the public dungeon areas. She found watching them interesting because they were just learning. Or normally that was the case. 

There was a man in there, older, and chained to the far wall. His back was to her and she couldn’t tell if his hair was grey, white, or bleached. It was spiky though. The only other thing he was wearing besides the cuffs on his wrists that kept him chained in place were a pair of tight leather pants and black combat boots. Though he was older, his body was nice. He was in good shape. The woman in there, dressed in all black as well, was holding a whip. It seemed she was working his back over and had been at it for some time considering the lashes that were there. 

“Say it!” The woman ordered firmly then struck him. 

“FUCK!” He roared, his voice so loud Leila actually had to take a step back. She was almost sure the glass in the viewing window had shaken, if just a bit. His voice was damn powerful. She took another sip of his drink. 

“I swear to God you useless piece of shit I will beat you until you pass out again!” She warned and struck him again. 

“FUCK!” He roared again wincing, his knees buckled and he collapsed forward the only thing stopping him from falling was the wall. Leila didn’t like the look of this at all. Mostly because whoever this man was, he didn’t seem like a typical submissive or even that he was trying to submit. Regardless of that, he’d clearly had enough with how bad his back was. Had she not been an expert in human sexual behavior, deviance, and sadism this may have appeared normal. However, part of her job (a big part of it) and what made her a good profiler was noticing when something wasn’t right. 

“Safeword…” She muttered to herself as if she was willing him to call it. She wondered what would happen if he did. 

“Say it, Billy, you goddamn know what I want.” The woman commanded. 

“Apple…” He snarled at her and for a moment, just a split second, he looked over his shoulder and she caught a glimpse of his face. He looked way more pissed off than he actually looked into this. 

“Right, you think that’s going to stop me? You can’t do shit about it. You aren’t in any position to do anything about it. Now, tell me what I want to hear or we are going to have a repeat of last time, aren’t we? You couldn’t get up for a week after that. Remember?” She laughed and raised the whip then struck him again. He roared out in pain, his knees buckling completely and the wall was the only support he had. 

There were very few things permitted in this club to interrupt a scene. Obvious injury, obvious unconsciousness, and a dominant ignoring a safeword. This woman, whoever she was, just broke the third rule. Hell, she was bordering on the line of breaking the first but since some people were very into sadism and masochism unless he had literally been gushing blood it wouldn’t have been enough to stop them. That’s why she had waited. She pressed the emergency lock release on the side of the door and opened it quickly. The woman turned to look at her. 

“Who the hell are you? Get the fuck out of here!” She ordered. 

“Oh thank Fuck…” This older man she now knew as Billy muttered. 

“Shut your bitch mouth!” She ordered him, raising the whip again. Leila grabbed her wrist quickly. She used her fingers to apply pressure to the tendons in the woman’s wrist so her grip was released from the handle of the whip and she was able to pull it away to avoid any more injury. “HEY! OW! YOU CAN’T DO THAT!” 

“I can do anything I want to stop something dangerous if someone breaks the rules and you broke them,” Leila informed her. 

“I’ll have you know-”

“And I’ll have you know that not only am I a member here, and an investor, I’m also an FBI agent. You want to finish that sentence because technically when you hit him after the safeword, that’s assault.” Leila informed her and looked over at Billy, “You want to press charges?” 

“FUCK YEAH! GET THAT CRAZY WHORE AWAY FROM ME!” He yelled. She wasn’t sure if it was serious, or panic, or both, but it was all she really needed to pursue this. She smiled at the woman smugly. She glared at Leila, rubbing her wrist where it was a bit sore now. 

“So, should I take you in? Or are you going to leave?” Leila asked her. 

“Fuck you.” The woman said, “And you, you stupid bastard, you have to come home sometime and I’ll be waiting.” 

“Did you just threaten him in front of a federal agent?” Leila asked. 

“You? With that body and those tits? Yeah, I don’t believe a word of what you say other than maybe I broke the rules. I’m leaving anyway, this isn’t worth my time.” She shoved Leila back and stormed out of the room, letting the door latch behind her. Leila quickly moved to shut the curtain to the viewing window, she dropped the whip and hurried to Billy. 

“Are you really FBI?” he asked as she started to unlock his wrists.

“Yeah, but I’m not exactly in the business of carrying my badge and gun with me to bondage clubs.” She replied. Once his wrists were released he collapsed completely against the wall, resting his cheek against it trying to catch his breath. After another moment he turned and stood on his own two feet even though his legs were shaking. With how he looked, she was guessing he was trying to play it tough. “You need to sit down.” 

“Bullshit I’m fine.” He snapped. 

“Are you really? The curtains are closed, no one is going to see this and I need to look at your back. I’m also a doctor…mostly.” 

“Oh, that sounds reassuring. A doctor and FBI agent, or a delusional bimbo who thinks all of this.” He said. She ignored him and took his arm, walking him to one of the more comfortable viewing chairs in there. Once he was seated she went to the shelf where a first aid kit was always kept and took it down. 

“Ever hear of a forensic psychiatrist, jackass? They have to go to med school like any other sort of psychiatrist. I just don’t practice on a clinical level or usually on live bodies.” She replied and walked back over to him. “I’m just going to clean your back so if you could turn around-”

“Live bodies?” he asked, “So you mean autopsies?” 

“Yeah, had to get special training for it but here we are.” She said, “Look, you aren’t dying and I can certainly clean a wound and assess if you need stitches or not. Is your name actually Billy or is there something else I should call you?” 

“What?” He asked like he was utterly confused. 

“Sometimes people use aliases here. I certainly do. A lot of celebrities come here, it’s all you know, completely private. The non-disclosure you had to sign to become a member.” She explained. He just stared at her blankly. She rolled her eyes and shoved him a bit so she could get to his back and start cleaning it up. He tense and hissed in pain before speaking again.

“I am a fucking celebrity.” He spat out. 

“Really?” She asked, “Who?” 

“Are you fucking serious?” 

“Yeah?” She asked. Come to think of it, he did look familiar and sound familiar but she couldn’t for the life of her place why. He seemed upset enough to explain it to her so she was sure she wouldn’t have to wait long to hear who he was. 

“I’m Billy Idol.” He said as if he was in utter disbelief to her even questioning this. 

“Oh.” She said, “Uh I’m not a fan really, nor do I get out much, or do the whole celebrity worship thing. My friend is a fan though. Thought you looked familiar.” She said and kept cleaning. He snorted back a laugh. 

“I really oughta be pissed at you right now but I can’t….I mean you did save me and I suppose I’d rather have someone absolutely not enamored by me trying to help for genuine reasons than creepy fangirl reasons.” He said, “That’s how I got into this bullshit in the first place. That bitch was…is….no WAS a fan of mine. Should have known better.” 

“Since when are fans in the business of beating the crap out of the musician they love?” She asked. 

“They typically aren’t and she wasn’t at first.” He said, “Got into deep, can’t get out.” 

“You can get out if she’s-” 

“Not that easy Miss…what did you say your name was?” He asked. 

“Leila.” She replied. His back wasn’t in horrible shape, some of the lash marks needed to be bandaged but nothing needed any stitches. Once she had him nice and cleaned up she started to place the banages to cover the worst of the wounds. “Leila Dawson.” 

“Woah, like of the heiress Dawsons?” He asked. “Freaky.” 

“How did you-”

“Not as dumb as I look. This is a private club, and expensive, I know socialites come here and I know of the Dawson family. Not to mention I get letters at least once a month with your name on the letterhead and someone named Rika Takashi who is CEO Of…” He paused, “Oh that’s your friend? You do know she keeps petitioning me to play at a charity event or some shit, right?” 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry I told her to stop doing that.” Leila said, “I’ll make sure she stops, I promise.” 

“I don’t think I can really say no now, you did save me from that witch.” He said then grinned at her stupidly. “Is she at least cute?” 

“Rika?” Leila asked, “Yeah, well I mean I certainly think she is.” 

“Nice. Alright, I’ll do whatever you guys want. When is this thing anyway?” He asked. She moved back from him as she finished up and then closed the lid to the first aid case. 

“It doesn’t exist yet, it entirely hinges on getting a bunch of different performers and she refuses to even try to organize it until you say yes. A few other performers have already agreed with a date pending. She tells them that the date is pending because of conflicting schedules and they need to work to get everyone on the same page. Not exactly a lie but-” 

“She’s a smart one. I like that.” He laughed, “Who else is performing?” 

“God I don’t even know.” Leila sighed, “I think she somehow tricked David Bowie into it if that helps.” 

“Seriously?” He asked, his large eyes somehow getting even larger upon hearing the news. 

“Yeah. I thought he was dead actually, like one of those people that overdosed on coke in the 70s.” She replied. 

“You really don’t get out much.” He muttered, “I’ll definitely be there if that’s the case. I’d also like to know what she told him to pull him out of retirement for a performance.” He said. 

“I’m more interested in how she could get Bowie out of retirement as easily as she did and you are the one who keeps turning her down. Seems like you are the last piece of this puzzle.” Leila said. 

“Billy Idol doesn’t do shit because people ask him to. He does it because he wants to do it.” He replied. 

“You do realize that kind of makes you-”

“An asshole. I know.” He said and stood up, “But, I owe you a favor now and we can call it even, yeah?” 

“Sure.” She shrugged, “Now, do you actually want to press charges on that woman, for assault I mean?” 

“Want to? Fuck yes, am I going to? Sadly, no.” He said then walked to the other side of the room and grabbed a T-shirt which he pulled on very carefully. He turned to look at her as he pulled his jacket on as well. Part of him looked lost like he wasn’t sure what to do. 

“If you don’t want to go back home tonight-”

“Don’t live here. Live in L.A. It would be a hotel room.” He said, “Here for an extended period of time for…reasons.” 

“Right, well if you don’t want to do that then you are welcome to come back to my penthouse.” She said. “I would urge you to press charges, I mean I really can’t do anything myself but I can put you in contact with a friend from-”

“No.” He said firmly, “I will go to your penthouse, however, you have booze there?” 

“Yeah…”

“Good let’s go then.” He said, “The sooner the better.” He headed for the door and opened it, walking out into the hallway without any further explanation or stalling for time. She sighed and followed after him. This was certainly shaping up to be an interesting turn of events.


	2. Chapter 2

Once they got back to her penthouse she immediately took her shoes off because they were killing her feet. She was kind of upset that she hadn’t really got to do or see anything before also having to leave but, at least she was helping someone who needed her help which did seem more important in the long run. She told Billy to make himself at home and went into her kitchen so she could get a can of Coke to drink. Though she knew very little about this man other than maybe three songs he’d done, she also knew it probably was not a wise idea to get drunk around him or offer him booze. That didn’t seem to matter anyway as a moment later he was at her bar helping himself to a drink. 

“I don’t think that-“ 

“I can hold my liquor, if I couldn’t, well…lets just say I’d have an arrest record a mile long.” He said and opened one of her bottles of tequila. She hated tequila and only had it for guests. He was a grown man, older than her father was or at least would have been had he not died a few years back. It felt wrong to tell him ‘no’ after what he’d just been through. 

“How about you tell me more about this girlfriend of yours?” She suggested trying to change the subject. She went and took a seat on her couch. After he poured himself a glass of tequila he walked over, sitting right next to her. Normally this would have been something that annoyed her but he did it very casually, not to mention she didn’t think it was because he was trying to be flirty. Just that he’d sat down and he wasn’t exactly the most personal space conscious man. That or he didn’t care. 

“How about no.” He said and took a sip of his drink then looked at her, his eyes going down to her chest. “Those real?” 

“Is your cock?” She asked. 

“Yes,” He said and took another sip of his drink, “Doesn’t mean those tits are real.” 

“Why does it matter?” 

“Doesn’t, just making conversation.” He shrugged. 

“It’s shit conversation.” She told him and opened her can of coke. He was irritating but in some weirdly endearing way that she found charming instead of incredibly annoying and that in of itself she found weird. She put her hand to her temple for a moment and breathed deeply. “I realize it’s not of my business why you don’t want to press charges or why you were there or what was going no but-“ 

“If it was none of your business why keep talking?” He asked. 

“Fine, whatever. As I said, make yourself at home. I’m going to have a nice soak in my hot tub.” She stood up and headed for the stairs. He watched her for a moment but then got up and followed after her. 

“How much does a place like this cost?” He asked. 

“It was purchased for me, a while ago, and I don’t know or care to know what the initial purchase price was.” She said, “Tend not to look gift horses in the mouth.” 

“Parents bought it for you?” He asked. 

“If you must know, yes.” She said, “Why are you still following me?” 

“Well I assume this hot tub thing was an invitation.” He replied. 

“Not really, I-“ 

“But you said make yourself at home.” He grinned and moved past her starting to down the hallway on the second floor poking his heads into rooms until he found what was obviously the master bedroom. She growled under her breath but follow after him. How did he have the perfect ability to walk some line between her yelling at him to get out and wanting him to stay. He was so different from anyone she ever dealt with, in either her personal or professional life. He had no ability to give a shit what she thought, or probably anyone but it wasn’t an act. This was genuine. Most people just acted like they didn’t care. He pulled his shirt off and tossed it on her bed. 

“Uh…” 

“Where’s this hot tub?” He asked. 

“Terrace.” She motioned vaguely to the double doors to the off to the side. He nodded and unzipped his pants. “Woah woah woah…” 

“It’s a hot tub I’m not going to go in there wearing my jeans.” He said. 

“How do you intend to go in there?” Leila asked. 

“Naked.” He shrugged and slipped out of his jeans. After that he was only in a pair of boxers, a rather tight pair. As he walked to the double doors she couldn’t help but notice he had a very nice ass but he was older and, God she really needed to get laid. She shook her head then rubbed her eyes and walked to her closet. She didn’t care if he was naked that wasn’t that big of a problem for her. Kind of weird but only because he happened to be Billy Idol, and only also because she knew Rika would be crapping her pants over this. Otherwise it was just a human body, and as a doctor and a person who worked in sex crimes, it wasn’t like she didn’t see nudity on a daily basis. It had become common instead of taboo. That being said, she wasn’t going to get naked for him because she was positive it would have a different connotation for him than just being naked. 

She grabbed one of her bathing suits, a one piece that was barely sexy, and put that on then put her hair up and pinned it there before walking out to the gazebo where the hot tub was sheltered. She opened the door there to find him butt naked and not even in the hot tub yet. Mostly because he was messing with the stereo in there and her music collection. His butt really was nice, very nice. She wanted to grab it. She cleared her throat and walked towards him just to turn on the towel warmer. The gazebo had a surround sound stereo which she used for music the vast majority of the time. However, it also had a small flatscreen TV and a little area with a mini-fridge with snacks, drinks, and on the other side was the towel warmer. 

“Having fun?” She asked sarcastically. 

‘Your music collection is shit.” He said. 

“Maybe according to you.” She said and got into the hot tub after grabbing a bottle of juice and a pack of cigarettes sitting on top of it. She took one out and lit it up. “I didn’t choose my music specifically to impress the fuck out of Billy Idol.” 

“Well then…” He paused, “Wait what? That’s something I’d say.” 

“Great.” She said, “I don’t care.” From where she sat in the hot tub she could see a scar on his leg. A pretty bad one. Looks like he’d lost muscle. She very vaguely recalled something about a car or motorcycle accident he was in. Rika freaking out, something about how he almost died, and her commenting that maybe it would teach him not to get high and drive. That scar was probably the end result of that accident. Thank God she knew Rika or she’d probably have nothing to talk to this guy about. 

“You’d be hot if you weren’t so tightly wound.” He said, “Oh wait…I know this. Guess it’s better than Bon Jovi.” He selected something, she couldn’t see what from where she was and music started to play. She knew this song, and it was definitely not something she put in there herself. It would have had to have been Rika. She sighed, that woman was always messing with her stuff. She was pretty used to it by now, and not even close to surprised Rika had put one of the three Billy Idol songs she did know into her collection. 

“You seriously sit around and listen to yourself for fun?” She asked him. He turned towards her and walked to the hot tub, getting in and sitting across from her. 

“Can I have one?” He asked, motioning to her cigarettes. 

“Yeah,” She held the pack out to him and he took it, she moved the ashtray from the side of the tub where she was on to more in the center. 

“And no, I don’t really sit around listening to my old music for fun, I just assumed it would annoy you.” He said. 

“Well, you were wrong.” 

“Was I?” He asked then lit the cigarette. He actually wasn’t wrong and she didn’t know how he knew this but she didn’t want to admit it either so instead, she decided to change the subject. 

“You’re very lucky you haven’t died yet.” She said. 

“That’s a nice thing to say to a man you just met.” He said and relaxed more into the tub, clearly trying to hide the initial discomfort of the hot water on the cuts that had recently been made over his back. It only seemed to last for a moment before he actually relaxed, though. With that leg injury, she could only assume that he had a higher pain tolerance than most people. 

“It’s also the truth.” 

“I do appreciate bitchy honesty.” He said, “I am also very aware that I’m lucky I haven’t died. You’re lucky you haven’t been shot.” 

“Touché.” She replied because he wasn’t wrong, considering her profession. “So, what are we doing here, Billy?” 

“What are we doing here?” He asked. That wasn’t helpful. She was fairly sure he wanted to sleep with her and would jump at the chance if she offered it but she didn’t intend to offer him any such thing. She thought. There was something about his weird face, huge mouth, and intense eyes which was oddly attractive. Rika had always been pretty harsh on her for her tastes in men. They were either too pretty or ‘funny looking’. Bon Jovi was one of the too pretty guys and her husband had been one of the funny looking guys. It didn’t help that he ended up also being a serial killer which really only seemed to prove Rika right. Now she was trapped in the middle with a funny looking guy who was oddly handsome, maybe even a bit pretty. From what she remembered of the album art when he was younger he definitely was pretty at some point. 

“I don’t know.” She said, “But I’m tired of looking at your weird face.” She took another drag from her cigarette and exhaled slowly. Normally she wouldn’t have been nearly this abrasive but he was pulling that side out of her. The side of her that did get aggressive and rough, usually when she was interrogating someone. 

“Weird face?” He asked, “Well I’m tired of looking at your fake tits.” 

“One, they aren’t fake. Two, then stop looking.” She said. 

“Then stop looking at my face, which is not weird.” He insisted. 

“It is weird.” 

“It fucking is not weird!” He snapped, “If my face is weird then your tits are fake.” 

“Then I guess my tits are fake.” She muttered. He growled and moved towards her, putting his hands on the rim of the tub on either side of her. Her eyes opened and she looked up at him. A shiver of fear and arousal running through her from that dominant look and deep voice. 

“Even if my face is weird, you want it.” He snarled. 

“Same with my tits.” She whispered. He glared at her, his lip curling into a snarl before he placed his hand on her neck and pressed his lips against hers. He wasn’t choking her, it was just a hold and she wasn’t going to complain. She’d missed being treated like this. It hadn’t happened since Mark had vanished and that was ten years prior. She kissed him back, finding that he may have had a very large mouth but he definitely knew what he was doing with it. That and his tongue. She kissed back hungrily after a moment, not able to help herself but only a few seconds after she started to respond to him, he pulled back and sat down where he had been sitting before, looking painfully smug. 

“Told you.” He grinned proudly. 

“That doesn’t mean anything, you made me kiss you.” She said breathlessly, even though she knew it was a damn lie. The truth was he’d kissed her and she’d certainly been willing enough to return it but she didn’t want to admit losing in this so she wasn’t going to. Not yet. 

“Really? Because that amount of tongue in my mouth says otherwise.” He laughed. 

“Fuck you.” She snapped, way more pissed off with herself than she was with him. She snubbed her cigarette out and then climbed out of the hot tub. She grabbed one of the towels from the towel warmer and started to dry off. “I’m going to bed, don’t bother me.” 

“Have to go in through those doors you know.” He said, motioning in the direction of the terrace doors that led into her bedroom. He wasn’t wrong but this annoyed even more. She let out an annoyed screech and stormed out of there out onto the terrace and then into the bedroom. He was so smug, and so right, about everything, but she couldn’t let him win. She would hold her composure and get him to do this damn charity concert. Yes, because the best revenge she could unleash on him was someone equally as obnoxious and that woman was her best friend, Rika Takashi. 


	3. Raise Me Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leila's husband is/was a canon character named Mark Hoffman from the Saw movies which makes this kind of a weird story in the way that Leila is an OC, Billy is a real person, and Mark Hoffman is a fictional character. It's just a story so deal with it, but I expect people to stop reading pretty much here and now. That being said, you don't really have to know the Saw movies to understand the story because the background will be written into the story to help explain everything going on. Just try to accept it and move on.

Leila was woken up a few hours later. Surprisingly enough, she had not been woken up when Billy had come into the penthouse initially. He'd been quiet about that. The thing that had woken her up was the very loud 'boom' under her. Nothing dangerous, it was the TV and the surround sound stereo she had there. He must have turned the TV on and not realized how loud the volume would be because as she woke up more she could hear things being quickly lowered down until it was just a dull murmur of voices. She sighed and got out of bed, reaching for her robe and pulling it on quickly. After tying it and making sure it covered most of her chest so he wouldn't be distracted when she came to talk to him, she headed out of the room. Getting a glimpse of the clock as she left she realized it was five in the morning. 

"Billy," She said as she reached the last step. He was off to the side in the open living room area lounging on her couch and smoking a joint. As much as she really didn't want him in her house smoking, she was too tired to get into an argument about this so she didn't say anything and headed into the kitchen. 

"Sorry Love, didn't realize it was going to be that loud when I turned it on." He called to her, kind of looking back over his shoulder as he did but more paying attention to the TV. Seemed to be some old sci-fi movie. Or horror. She couldn't tell right away, nor did she care to. She wanted to just go get some more sleep but he had her awake enough she thought that she might get a snack first. She went to the fridge and looked through it before deciding on a small cup of yogurt. She opened it and grabbed a spoon then walked back over to the couch. "Bring anything for me?" 

"Yeah, a can of go fuck yourself because I'm tired." She told him and took a spoonful of yogurt, "Do you ever intend to tell me what's actually going on between you and this lady friend or are you going to keep dodging the question?" 

"Let's just say you should never stick your dick in crazy." He said and looked over at her, "Guess you aren't ever going to have that problem, yeah?" 

"How crazy is she?" Leila asked then took a seat across from him. 

"Like spoiled trust fund baby crazy." He said, "As in her family has money because you know mafia related reasons." He still wasn't really looking at her as he spoke but he was being serious enough that she definitely believed him. Even though the FBI completely disavowed knowledge of the mafia and organized crime, in general, it was only to keep the public from panicking. Organized crime most definitely existed. Less in the current day than it had in the past but it was there. She saw it plenty because of her work in sex crimes and the trafficked slaves she saw come through the city. It wasn't always the Italian mafia either, all sorts of different people, races, countries...it was pretty bad. 

"How do you fit into all of this? I mean why are you afraid of-" 

"I've already had one 'accident' because of them, don't want to try for a second one. Or you know, death." He said and finally glanced over at her, "She's dead fucking set on marrying me and I'm dead fucking set on outliving that notion. She's only like thirty and I got maybe 20 years left. 10 of them good." 

"So what you are telling me is that she's so set on keeping you that she'd rather have you dead than just leave a man who doesn't want her?" Leila asked, "She doesn't even care that you hate her? Does she know?" 

"Oh, trust me, she knows." He said and reached for the remote then pressed the mute button to silence the TV, "Doesn't matter. I'm a trophy. Baby girl wanted a rock star husband and I'm the rock star husband she wants. It's a status thing to her. A symbol. She's this wannabe punk rebel and thinks she's a bad ass because Daddy can order people killed. Sheltered little cunt wouldn't know badass if it punched her in the tit." 

"Fake your own death," Leila said then laughed and continued to eat her food. He looked over at her like he wasn't amused, "My husband did it, kind of." 

"About that," He said, "I've seen the wedding pictures. You got them around here and there. Bloke looked familiar so I looked it up." Leila felt her heart drop into her stomach. This was definitely something she wanted to avoid talking about and had she not been so tired she wouldn't have even made the in poor taste joke about her husband kind of faking his own death. That was an oversimplification of what had happened but not too far from the truth in the grand scheme of things. 

"Billy..."

"You were married to a serial killer." He said, "Interesting thing, that." 

"Yeah, interesting. Can we just not get into-" 

"Why not?" He asked, "Especially since from what I know he's dead, but then you go and say that shit about him faking his death...kind of. What's up with that? He's not secretly hiding out here right?" 

"No." She sighed and set her cup of yogurt on the coffee table as she was suddenly not hungry anymore. "He was declared legally dead without sufficient evidence to prove he could be dead. The amount of blood they did find of his proves little if anything other than he may have had a cut at some point. No body, no bones, nothing. The FBI wanted to prevent some sort of public freakout if they couldn't catch the Jigsaw apprentice so they lied and said they had enough forensic evidence to declare him most likely dead. That's what they did. They also feared a bunch of copycat killings if they didn't close it out.  It worked for the most part." 

"You knew he was a killer when you were married to him?" He asked. 

"You want the official answer to that or the real one?" She asked, "Also, why should I tell you any of this? You won't even-" 

"What? I told you about my crazy Mafia girlfriend." He said, "Now you tell me about your crazy murderous husband. Quid pro quo." 

"He wasn't crazy." She said and he gave her a look like he didn't believe a word of it, "I mean in the sense that he just went around randomly stabbing people for no reason. He did this for years without being caught, there was a method to his madness. He had a whole code of rules and ethics for who the victims were and for your information it wasn't his choice. He was being blackmailed too." 

"What?" 

"Yeah, he copycatted one of the Jigsaw killings to get revenge on the man who killed his sister. He pulled it off for intents and purposes, except the actual Jigsaw killer knew that it wasn't one of his traps. He started to blackmail Mark. Gave him a choice. Either he could go to prison or learn the tricks of the trade and join in the Jigsaw killings. Mark didn't want to lose everything, namely me and the life and love we had built together so he did what he was told to protect me." She said. 

"Very noble of you to think of it that way." He quipped, his tone just dripping with sarcasm.

"Look, you bastard, I didn't like it I had to do a lot of mental gymnastics to be able to sleep at night but I didn't want to lose him. I loved him. Deeply. I was also much younger and far more stupid. Of course, he told me what was going on and we decided there was no reasonable way out of it so...in the end it just was how it was. Like I said, he didn't just go around killing random people. It was all bad people. Criminals who had escaped jail time by tricking the system or con-artists who had yet to be caught. Shit people. As much as I cannot agree with his brand of justice I understood why he did it. Especially as a law enforcement officer myself. Our system can be such shit and you know sometimes it's just...better." She said, "But I recognize he is a murderer, or was, whatever and I will not try to excuse that. Still, when you love someone like that, truly love them...you forgive them for a lot more than you believe you will. It's very easy to judge me from the outside looking in but try being there." Billy went silent for a long moment and his gaze went back to the TV. No doubt he was stoned because of the nice fat joint he had just smoked. She was going to have to call in professional cleaners to deal with that smell. She really didn't care if he smoked pot she just didn't want him to do it in her house. 

"Yeah, I get it." He said after what seemed like an eternity of silence and she was just standing up to throw away her yogurt and head back up to bed. She paused and looked at him, "Never know what you are going to do in a situation until you are in it. Life or death especially. Maybe like why I keep putting up with this bitch busting my balls, literally busting them. Get it now? We both got the same problem just kind of on the opposite end of things. I don't judge you and you don't judge me." 

"Fair enough," Leila said except the difference here was she wanted to help him out of his predicament and she knew that she could. The only problem was she also knew what she could offer him wasn't exactly legal and he was going to need to keep his mouth completely shut about it if he wanted it to happen at all. It wasn't something she was interested in discussing in the moment nor was it anything she could do herself. It would come down to her friend Rika and the connections that she had to organized crime. Leila turned her head on that constantly since the majority of the dealings Rika had with the Yakuza were not in this country and were far outside of any jurisdiction Leila had herself. She was lucky she could even benefit from this type of stuff but given that she was a billionaire, money always talked. Typically they wouldn't deal with white people or any other sort of race that was an outsider. It always helped to be an heiress when you wanted to get shit done. Having a best friend who was the daughter of a man who ran a group like that didn't hurt either. 

"Can I stay here for a bit then? Few days maybe? Just need to rest before heading back with my tail between my legs begging for forgiveness." Billy said. 

"Yeah just stop smoking in my house. You can go on the terrace if you need to do that, I smoke out there too so it's not as if I ignore my own rules." She told him and threw out the yogurt container in the kitchen after putting the spoon in the sink. "I'm going to get some more sleep and we can figure out how to handle all of this in the morning.  You also owe me a charity performance." 

"Done." he said, "Especially if it means I have to be here and there's a good reason to not bring that bitch with me. Please tell me there is one?" 

"I'll come up with something." She said and headed towards the stairs, "There's a guest room down the hall from my room so make yourself at home. Try to keep it down." 

"Will do." he nodded and turned the volume back up on the TV. This was definitely a precarious situation that she'd gotten herself into but she was exactly the bleeding heart type of woman he needed to help him out of it, no matter how stupid it ended up being to do so. 


End file.
